


Alley Cats

by Gyakugire



Category: Death Note
Genre: Fluff, M/M, adoption stuff, idk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 07:09:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5996322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gyakugire/pseuds/Gyakugire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What’s goin’ on today? Everyone’s up already,” Matt grumbles into his knees, half a mind to go back to bed.</p>
<p>Mello shrugs, disinterested, disgusted. “Adoptions.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alley Cats

Matt wakes up to chaos, shouts, laughing, heavy footsteps pattering down the halls. The bedside clock reads a measly six thirty, and he’ll be damned if the fucking thing is wrong. It’s early, and he stayed up too late again, but he’s up, so he crawls out of bed and knows at least that Mello will be awake, Mello will know what’s going. Sure enough, the light is on under the door, so he knocks twice, two sharp raps on the door.

Mello sighs heavy on the other side of the door, but he hears the whine of his chair against the floor, and the door swings open to reveal the blond, heavy circles under his eyes and a snarl on his lips. Still, he gives the boy a nod, per missing him to come into the room, to take his usual seat on Mello’s bed while said boy gets back to work.

“What’s goin’ on today? Everyone’s up already,” Matt grumbles into his knees, half a mind to go back to bed.

Mello shrugs, disinterested, disgusted. “Adoptions.” Curt, harsh, uninterested, condemning.

But for a moment, Matt feels a surge of excitement, and surely, Mello must too, so he’s on his feet, rushing over to the desk, freezing when his friend looks up at him with narrowed eyes and a tight jaw. His smile fades when he sees how tightly Mello is grasping at his pencil, turning the tops of his knuckles a creamy, ghostly white. “Don’t you want to go?” he asks dumbly, and Mello rolls his eyes.

“And leave this behind? All the work that I’ve done? No.” And for a child, in Matt’s eyes, he seems ten years his age, working himself to the bone, already up for God knows how long. “Besides, the top five won’t leave.”

“Oh,” Matt says softly, and there’s a twinge of disappointment, of regret, that Mello would rather stay by himself, that the hope of a mother and father did nothing but bring the sting of bile to the back of his throat.

“Go. You want to, right?”

Matt shrugs.

“God, Matt, just go!” he snaps, swatting at the boy with his free hand, but Matt doesn’t move, because he’s only been here for three months, but he knows damned well enough what Mello’s saying in the way he adverts his eyes, or the way he chews on his lip while he works. So sure, he listens for a moment. He removes himself for a few minutes, fishes out his favorite video game, and plants himself on Mello’s bed, clicking away until Roger comes up and drags the two of them out.

It’s younger children, mostly. Children around his age that still have no concept of what they’re doing, where they’re going. All they know is that M, M, and N are the top of the class, and that they yearn for the idea of a normal family, for a mom that will kiss them goodnight, for parents that will walk them to school and pet dogs that will greet them when they return.

They’re dressed in their best clothing, the very best they’ve been able to get a hold of, and Matt realizes that Mello, even, is forced into nicer clothing. He hears Roger whisper to a few of the other workers that there’s no way in hell the blond is leaving, the kid’s like a goddamned curse.

They’re like two alley cats, the way they stalk around the playground. Hopeful parents, some already in tow with another child, talk to potential candidates, greeting them with smiles and candies and signatures that promise for a better life. But the two of them, long blond hair and a messy tuft of auburn, stick together like glue. Have to go together, and one is alright enough, but the other one is nothing short of a little terror, with a shit attitude that’s going to get him in trouble later on.

One family, with their own child, is brave enough to wander over to Matt. They think it’s just a childhood attachment, and maybe, it is, and they ignore the way Mello snarls at their child while he tries to talk to Matt, eventually settling on looping an arm around the redhead’s, clinging onto him for dear life.

“Leave him alone,” Mello eventually hisses, and the boy isn’t taken aback in the least, even when Mello stomps forward and gets right in the little brat’s face. But Mello, with a face like that, and his raised voice, would raise some sort of reaction out of anyone, and Matt has half a mind to think that most of the time, it’s intentional.

“I wanna talk to him.”

“Well you can’t because he’s mine.” The possessiveness, though, is something new.

There’s a flare of immature frustration, and the boy whacks Mello in the face, with enough force and so little warning that it sends the blond tumbling backwards, falling to the ground and scraping his palms. The child laughs, and Matt sees that flicker in Mello’s eyes.

He’s gonna cry. He’s mad, because this little snot embarrassed him. He’s mad, because Matt’s going to—

Matt’s never shoved anyone before, never mind punched them, but the movement is so swift, so natural, that he doesn’t even register what’s happened until the boy is wailing on the ground, and Mello’s staring at him with eyes blown wide, jaw hanging open.

It’s chaos. Before it can escalate further, Roger’s in between the two parties, apologizing, offering candy, compensation, anything, while Matt sits on the ground behind him with Mello, brushing the dirt off of the blond’s hands.

~~

Roger doesn’t call Mello into the office. After all, Matt had been the one to throw a punch, Mello had just taken one. He expects to be yelled at, maybe to get a few whacks in the face or the arse, but Roger only paces around his desk, sighing heavily, like this is truly the last thing he wants to deal with. And surely, it is.

They all know Roger can’t stand children.

“What happened, Matt?” and for some reason, that makes the redhead’s lower lip tremble. He stares hard at the ground until Roger takes a seat across from him, hands folded on his lap. “Well, Matt?” Gentler this time. Not reassuring by any means, but at least…calm.

Before he can stop them, the tears streak his face, and he’s trembling like a damn baby, knees curing up to his chest. “H-He hit Mello,” he finally chokes out, and Roger doesn’t do a thing. He waits for the boy to continue, surprisingly gentle, surprisingly lax. “A-and Mello was gonna c-cry so I hit him b-because I didn’t want Mello to be upset and I didn’t want to leave!”

“Matt,” Roger says slowly, cautiously, “That doesn’t mean you can hit other people.”

“I’m sorry,” he eventually murmurs, cheeks burning red, embarrassed, humiliated, and finally, thankfully, Roger lets him go, lets him scuttle back down the halls to grab his games.

And just like that, he’s back in Mello’s room, and for once, the boy isn’t studying or writing or reading. He’s sitting curled up under his desk, knees pulled up to his chest, and the whole thing is almost laughable, but all Matt does is sit next to him on the floor. He’s mad, Matt thinks. There’s always emotion radiating off this kid, whether its from the way he picks at the now garish marks on his hands, or how he pokes at the bruise forming on his cheekbone.

“Sorry I got into a fight, Mels,” he grumbles, and Mello, eyes glued to the ground, shakes his head.

“’s fine.”

Matt’s not really sure what to do, but he remembers something about kisses and hugs and whatever the hell else you’re supposed to do when you're a family, so he takes Mello’s hand, honestly surprised that the blond even lets him, and plants a gentle, awkward kiss next to his scratch before putting the limb back down.

Mello wants to ask for another, but his pride won’t let him, so the two of them stay curled up under Mello’s desk, the blond eventually with a book, and Matt with his video games.

It was the first of occurrences that would become a norm. Little things that happened when Mello was about to burst at the seams, and Matt awkwardly, cautiously, tried his best to hold him together.


End file.
